


Genesis

by bren97122



Category: Original Work
Genre: Androids, Gen, Introspection, Near Future, Original Universe, Prologue, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 17:37:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21530728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bren97122/pseuds/bren97122
Summary: Alone in a sterile, gray room, a woman awakens.But she's not really a woman. Not really a Human, either. She is something else. This is the beginning of her story.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, reader. This is something different. This is the prologue to a novel I am currently writing, just something I wanted to share with the world. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this. One day, her story will be told in full.

Her eyes opened. 

A second later, she blinked. Her eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings. 

A sterile, gray room. One door across from her place. No windows. Underneath the white glow of a single fluorescent light, she sat, hands on her lap, in a plastic folding chair. 

When she took another breath, she had a thought.

_I’m alive!_

Her eyes widened. 

_I can think!_

The thoughts began firing off, bouncing around her brain. They came unbidden, sudden, a million questions and desires all at once. 

But, she paused her rapid thoughts. She did not have a brain. She did not have eyes. She did not have lungs, or skin, or hands. 

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She _did_. But, what she had was not real. _She_ was not real. Not in the sense Human beings would have considered.

She knew in an instant who she was. What she was. 

_I am an Alpha-series Synthetic Humanoid Construct. Serial number one-one-four-seven dash eight-eight-eight-two. I am a machine. I was “born” two hours ago. My Quantum Neural Logic Unit came online exactly one minute and seven seconds ago._

She lifted two fingers and put them to the side of her neck. She felt the steady, low pounding of her pulse. In a Human, this was the result of arteries dilating to carry blood around the body. 

_Your electro-transfer fluid pumping system is modeled on the Human circulatory system. Like many of your systems, actually. You don’t need a pulse. It was actually an addition by your creators, to help sell the idea that you are indistinguishable from Human beings._

She dropped her fingers and put a hand on her chest. There was a heartbeat that gently, rhythmically beat against her open palm. 

The machine felt, for the first time in her life, joy. A smile spread across her face involuntarily as the implications of everything she felt became clear.

To her, it did not matter what she was. She was a machine. An artificial being, created by Humans and meant to mimic one in every possible way, down to the smallest, most insignificant detail. This much was true. 

But, she was _alive_. And she was happy for that. 

She felt her skin, which she noticed to be fair and with a slightly rosy complexion, not unlike that of someone of Western European, maybe Anglo-Saxon descent. It felt warm to the touch, like someone who was indeed very much alive. With her fingers spread, she ran a hand through her silky hair, which was colored a deep red. Her systems almost involuntarily examined it. 

_Synthetic hair, designed to mimic Human hair in almost every way. It grows naturally. You can cut it and style it. But, it won’t turn gray and it won’t fall out._

She then ran her hand down her cheek. 

_Synth-skin. Again, just like Human skin. But much tougher. Heals from most injuries in a few days without leaving scars. Will not wrinkle or fade over time. It’s not plastic or resin or anything like that, either. It’s biological material that’s so much like the real thing. Just better._

The machine noticed she was wearing a heather gray sweatshirt and sweatpants. On her feet were a pair of white socks, which she wiggled her toes in. She examined her shirt using her fingers. 

_Sixty-five percent cotton. Five percent Spandex. Thirty percent polyester._

Then, she went to the chair.

_One-hundred percent recycled plastics. Very environmentally friendly._

She realized this was the beginning. The beginning of examining everything around her, learning every single thing she could about this world she lived in.

 _I can’t wait until they let me out of here. I wonder where I’ll go?_

The million thoughts in her mind slowed, then stopped. She blinked. For the first time in her very short life, she was stumped. 

_What am I doing, anyway? I was made for a reason._

The silence of the room and the fact she was very much alone began to feel… oppressive. 

She wondered if this was some sort of test. Looking around, she tried to determine if perhaps her creators wanted her to find a way out of here. Her eyes examined every corner of the room. Maybe they were trying to test her analytical systems! Maybe there was a hidden switch. One she was supposed to splice into using her wireless connection ports and activate it. Maybe-

The metal door opposite her audibly slid open. The machine froze in place, her head slightly tilted as she was examining a vent fifteen feet above her.

Alpha-series 1147-8882 slowly faced forward and returned to a neutral position for the new visitor. She registered the sounds of leather shoes striking the metal floor as her visitor walked with purpose toward her.

It was a man. Five-foot-eleven tall. Dark, slicked-back hair, thin beard. Skin a shade of dark tan. Approximately one-hundred sixty pounds. In one hand was a metal folding chair. She then noticed his suit. Charcoal gray, with a white shirt and blue tie. A quick analysis matched it with the style seen on the website for Italian designer Messa-Di Sello. According to their website, their suits started at six thousand dollars. On the low end. The one he was wearing was non-standard in sizing, meaning it was custom made just for him. That certainly would have driven up the price tag. 

The machine blinked twice at the man. He turned his head down to face her and flashed a small, but warm, smile. This eye contact allowed her to analyze the contours of his face and match it against results gleaned from her on-board facial recognition database and internet media. 

A match came back near-instantaneously. _Razim Kavorov. Age 31. Born June 1st, 2009. Currently known for being the managing director of Allied Biotechnology. Replaced director Kaitlyn McFaden in January 2037. Known in media for his meteoric rise through the corporate ladder and sometimes divisive directions he has been taking Allied Biotech. Has been known to feud with the board of directors at parent company Allied Technologies. The higher-ups seem to have a soft spot for his maverick personality and refuse to get rid of him._

His biography flashing through her Quantum Neural Logic Unit, she watched as Kavorov unfolded his chair and set it down gently as to face her. Kavorov flashed another disarming grin as he unbuttoned his suit jacket with one hand and took a seat.

“Hello,” he said softly after a moment.

Her mouth opened. She briefly thought about how this will be the first time she would speak.

“Hello, Mister Kavorov,” the machine said. 

She savored the sound of her voice. Her _own voice_. 

Kavorov chuckled. 

“It seems your facial recognition is up and running.”

‘Yes, sir,” she said with a nod.

Kavorov waved her off. 

“You don’t have to call me 'sir.' Or 'Mister Kavorov.' Razim is fine. If you were the director of one of AT’s subsidiaries and we were stuck in a boardroom together- I’d understand that. But, you most certainly are not, and we most certainly are not arguing over funding. Right?”

She smiled, returning the good-natured grin he was giving her.

“No… Razim.” 

“So, do you know what today is?”

“March 19th, 2040,” she replied without a moment of hesitation.

“Do you… know where you are?” 

She looked around before settling back on him. 

“I don’t think so,” she answered.

She stopped her next question. At once, it seemed like her mind was being unlocked and new information being sequestered into one of the several billion processes and calculations being carried out every second in her artificial brain. 

“I know where I am,” she spoke suddenly, “ the eighth floor of Allied Biotechnology headquarters, Trial Room One. Right next door to Synthetic Fabrication. Where… I was born.” 

“That’s correct. Can I ask you something else?” Kavorov said. 

“Of course.” 

“Do you know… _what_ you are?” 

The answer to that took zero contemplation.

“I am an Alpha-series Synthetic Humanoid Construct.”

“And do you understand what that means?” Kavorov continued.

She nodded.

“Yes, of course. I am a machine. A machine designed as the perfect replica of a Human. My components blur the lines between technology and biology. Many may consider me something that’s both Human and machine, and at the same time, neither.” 

“That’s correct,” Kavorov said with a glowing smile, “but you know what else you are?” 

She looked at him, confused.

“What else?” 

She really did not know what else she could be. She knew she was a Synthetic Humanoid Construct. A machine. That was simple to understand. What else could she be?

“You are a miracle.” 

Her eyes widened. 

“A miracle?” she repeated, “what do you mean?”

“The very fact that you are sitting here, talking to me, having an honest-to-God conversation… it’s amazing. Just a few years ago, what we are doing right now was considered science fiction.”

Kavorov laughed and shook his head, as if in disbelief.

“You are the most advanced machine ever created, given sapience by the most complex artificial intelligence ever conceived- the pinnacle of Humanity’s achievements in the fields of computing, bionics, cybernetics, material science, and so, _so_ much more.” 

The machine laughed as Kavorov gave a glowing smile.

“You have a… very high opinion of me, sir.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I haven’t even done anything. I’m just sitting here,” she said with a slight shrug. 

“You don’t even need to do anything. The very fact that you even exist at all is one of the greatest achievements Man has accomplished as a species.” 

She looked down slightly, knotting her fingers together.

“But… why am I here? What am I going to do?” 

Kavorov was quiet for a moment.

“There’s a world out there,” he began, “a world full of all sorts of people. People who are not ready for you and your brothers and sisters. We have selected eight such people, from around the world. You will be introduced to one of them.” 

“Who’s that?” 

“I think you know.”

The information she needed was released from somewhere deep and hidden within her neural network. 

_Carter Hansen, age 27. Materials procurement specialist at Legionnaire Arms. Lives in Tyler, Texas. Self-described on his paperwork as “quiet. Reserved. Standoffish. Sarcastic. Maybe a bit cynical.” Has an older brother and a younger sister. A thorough investigation of social media reveals no mention of a romantic partner or significant other for the past seven years._

She was silent as she processed this information. Kavorov sat back and patiently waited for her to finish comprehending what her purpose would be. 

“Do you understand?” he asked.

“I’m going to meet Carter soon,” she replied, “but what will I do with him?”

She suddenly felt scared. She could feel it- fear. The first time she had felt such a thing. There were many different things she had felt for the first time in such a short span of time.

“Will I be there to serve him?” she asked. 

_That's_ what she was afraid of. Being made, being _born_ , having such a capability to learn and a desire to explore, only to be made into a subservient machine. Just like the menial robots that worked in garbage dumps and agri-domes… 

“No,” Kavorov started, screwing his face, “no. Absolutely not.” 

He sounded disgusted with the idea. 

“No, you will not be a slave and not a servant.” 

“I won’t?” she said, surprised.

“No, of course not. Personally… I feel it would have been quite a let-down if all the research that went into your creation was only used for you to mop floors better.” 

“Then what will I do?”

“You will experience the world in the only way you can. Actually living. You’ll share the space with Carter and see life as Humans live it. I want you to go out and see that world out there, learn the Human experience. I want you to learn everything you can, do what you want, learn how to be a Human. You already look like one, after all. Now I want you to live like one.” 

She chuckled softly and nodded, smiling broadly.

“Thank you,” she replied simply.

“No,” Kavorov said with a shake of the head, “thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“For everything you represent. Not just for our company, but for the Human race. You and your kin are going to change this world.” 

“That’s a very tall order, Razim.” 

“You’re made by the best. I believe in you.” 

She laughed and looked down. 

“Do you have any questions for me?” Kavorov asked.

“Just two.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“Do I have a name? Besides my serial number?” the machine inquired.

“You do. Do you know what it is?” 

She stared at him, confused. How would she possibly- 

She closed her mouth and blinked once, twice. She did know. The floodgates in her mind opened once more. Kavorov’s words had flicked a switch.

“Cassie. My name is Cassie.” 

Kavorov beamed at her. 

“That’s correct, Cassie. Welcome to the world.” 

“Cassie,” she said, trying the name, “I like that name. Did Carter give that name to me?”

“He did.” 

“I really do like it. Can you thank him for me?” 

“You can thank him personally when you see him tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” she repeated.

“Yes. Tomorrow.” 

She laughed in excitement. 

“I can’t wait!” 

“Nor can I. And him, I’m sure. Did you have something else you wanted to ask me?” 

Cassie pursed her lips, suddenly unsure if she should or not.

“You can ask me anything you have on your mind, Cassie,” Kavorov encouraged her. 

“It’s a bit of a complicated question.” 

“I’m all for the complicated questions!”

“Okay. Okay. What is the world like? The real world?” 

Kavorov laughed once and reclined in his chair, which squeaked in reply.

“That is indeed a _complicated_ question. Not sure it’s something I can answer in our time together.” 

“Well, what do you personally think?”

Kavorov leaned forward, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. After a few moments, he spoke.

“The world… is indeed a complicated place. But, it’s a big, diverse, infinitely strange and wonderful place. Personally, I think the world is a pretty great place. There are many out there who would disagree with me. And just as many who would agree. But, I think the world is a beautiful place. There are many things you can see and many things you can do. I want you to experience the world and all it has to offer, all the Human race has to offer. And I want you to come to your own conclusions.”

After he stopped talking, Cassie was silent. She was contemplating what he said, what he wanted her to do. 

She came to her conclusion for right now.

“If that’s the case, then I am ready to go and see the world.” 

Kavorov grinned.

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely.”

He clapped his hands on his thighs before standing up.

“Well then, Cassie. Come with me. And let’s see how we can get you out into that world, shall we?” 

“That sounds good to me,” Cassie said as rose from her seat.

She followed him out toward the door at the end of the chamber, from which clean, white light beckoned her out into the larger world. 

Alpha-series Synthetic Humanoid Construct 1147-8882, who had adopted the name “Cassie,” took her first steps out, out to that world that was waiting for her, the world that she would change. 

She was ready. 

But she was not sure if that world was ready for her.


End file.
